


Convince Me

by Exalted_Dawn



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AU where Robin turned him down the first time, After Beating Gangrel, Chrom's POV, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hesitant Robin, Kinda Steamy Kiss???, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 21:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exalted_Dawn/pseuds/Exalted_Dawn
Summary: “Please, just tell me. I can accept the fact that you don’t hold the same love for me as I do you, as painful as that may be. I would still happily call you my dearest and most trusted friend… But I’ve asked now and once before, and both times you’ve given me some excuse as to why it would never work… but you’ve never once said that you don’t care for me as a man. Just, please,” he breathed, speaking softly into her ear. “If you don’t love me, just tell me.”Second Proposal AU





	Convince Me

### Convince Me

 

The silence was a kind one, unlike that of the finality of death. Here, the air was pregnant with life, the quiet had its own breath. 

Sounds of hushed whispers and crackling fires wafted through the campground like a benevolent ghost, wrapping the Shepherds in its shawl. Men and women sat huddled in groups of two or three, nursing cups of brown ale to fill their stomachs and warm their toes.

It was a blessed and hard won peace, and for once the biting cold of Plegia’s nights did not seem so cruel to them.

It was these hushed sounds of tranquility that drew Chrom’s mind from the sharp sting of a vulnerary being furiously rubbed into the gash below his rib cage.

“You could stand to be gentler, y’know,” he chuckled, wincing as the gauze was pressed against his skin.

“You don’t deserve it after what you did today.”

Robin didn’t even spare him a glance as she reached for the roll of bandages on the floor beside the bed roll. Dark circles hung from her eyes and stray strands of hair flew in every direction. Despite this, she worked quickly. Blood crusted hands deftly uncoiled strip after strip of linen and bound the wound with relative ease.

Ever since the battle in Plegia’s Castle Courtyard, Robin had taken up studying medical basics under his sister whenever she had time to spare. He could still recall how the pungent smell of herbs and tonic would fill his nostrils every time the two of them met over the war table. Back then, the odor had been an offensive thing that had masked Robin’s usual smell of paper and leather, and he could tell that the lack of downtime between the meetings and her lessons had been driving her into the ground.

No matter how hard he, or Lissa, or even Maribelle insisted that her assistance wasn’t necessary, she stubbornly refused to quit her studies. She’d simply flash him a tired smirk and respond, _“You’ll be happy for it when your recklessness sees that you end up with a sword in your stomach.”_

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. Despite how hard he had argued against her, the creeping heat of the vulnerary working its way into his side was more than enough evidence to prove that he had been wrong once again.

“There,” Robin huffed, swiping at her brow with a torn sleeve. “Honestly, Chrom. You have to be entertaining fantasies of marrying Death with how often you end up almost bleeding out. Next time you have a six inch gash in your gut, _tell someone._ ”

Chrom cocked a brow, a smile threatening to break on his face. “Since when was it the tactician’s job to give orders to the general?”

Deep brown eyes immediately shot up to meet his blue ones, venom apparent in their gaze. “Since the general decided to act like an absolute _idiot_ and ran straight into the path of Plegian steel of his own accord.” She promptly shoved the rest of her supplies back into one of the many pockets hidden among the folds of her coat and rose to her full height. “I think that qualifies me plenty to tell you what to do.”

“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here to do that, Robin. I can bear a few scrapes if it means keeping you safe,” Chrom grunted, pulling his tunic back on. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed, but knowing his tactician, he’d be better off fully dressed when her temper flared.

“You could have _died,_ Chrom! I don’t think that’s fully sunken in yet!” Her voice cracked with anguish, her muscles seizing in fear. The words tumbled from her mouth again. “You could have died… you could have-“

Her hands flew up to her face, muffling choked sobs and incoherent musings alike. All strength was sapped from her legs as she collapsed at his feet, trembling like a spring fawn. “Chrom… you _idiot…._ You could’ve…”

He bent to one knee, ignoring the slight stab of pain to his side as he hesitantly pulled Robin to him. She fit into the crook between his branded arm and chest, her forehead resting heavily on his shoulder as she leaned into his tentative embrace. The breath forced from her lungs was labored and came sporadically.

The sight pained him more than any spear or axe could have. He held her there, one hand rigidly grasping her arm as she clung to him for support.

His instincts screamed at him to do more. To hug her, to _hold_ her. To clutch her for dear life and never release her again. But this brief contact, this whisper of a blessing, was all that he’d allow himself. Anything more than that would be a betrayal of his promise to her.

“Robin...I-”

She sucked in a harsh breath, her nails digging into the soft, cobalt fabric at his back.

“E-Every time. Everytime I send you into battle, I-I’m _terrified._ I’m so gods damned scared that there will be yet _another_ thing I couldn’t plan for that will rob Ylisse of it’s Exalt. Everyday, I spend hours and _hours_ thinking about all the ways that people could kill you. And… and t-then you go and pull a stunt like that! You could have _died..._ and I would only have my own incompetence to blame…” A pregnant pause hung between the two. Robin was dragging in air as though the space around them was actively trying to rob it from her. Her shoulders shuddered under the heft of her cloak, sweat staining the plum-colored fabric even darker. She dug her face even further into the crevice of his shoulder, as though she was trying to smother herself. “...I could have lost you…”

Robin’s voice was muffled and impossibly small, much like a child’s. Chrom bowed his head low, just barely allowing his cheek to brush against the crest of her head. The fringe of her bangs teased the skin at his neck.

“Robin, listen to me,” he breathed. “The war is over. I promise that you won’t ever have to think about those sort of things ever again.” He kept his voice low and steady. “I promise you.”

“H-How can you…? You could have-”

“Died. I know, I know,” Chrom finished, letting out a hollow chuckle as he did. He gently pushed Robin from his shoulder so that he could look at her.

“You’re smart enough to know why I did it. As much as you don’t like it, I will never just stand by when I see that my people are in danger. And besides, I couldn’t have killed Gangrel without you. Remember? Two halves of a better whole.”

Robin sniffled, turning her gaze with a petulant look on her face. “More like two halfwits, if you ask me…” she muttered.

Chrom smiled.

“Well that may be so for me, but honestly, you need to give yourself more credit. Gangrel is dead now and the Shepherds get to go home. _All of us.”_ He gently squeezed down on her shoulder, giving her a playful shake. “The only reason why I feel so confident running headlong into battle is cause I know you have my back.”

Robin searched his face for any signs of falsehood before taking a single deep breath. She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve, taking with it whatever residual tears and snot hadn’t already worked their way into Chrom’s tunic. When she looked back up at him, she smiled. “If I may, Captain, you suck at comforting women...”

Chrom chuckled. “You know just how… ‘capable’ I am when addressing a lady. This shouldn’t be surprising to you.” He pushed himself to his feet, dusting the dirt from his britches. He extended a gloved hand for Robin to pull herself up with.

She took it, hoisting herself up until she stood almost level with him. “Oh, so I’m a lady now?” she snickered, eyes peering up at him from under heavy lids. Her head cocked to the side as her lips slid into an easy smirk.

Chrom’s cheeks reddened. Clearing his throat, he put an appropriate amount of distance between them and hoped that he didn’t seem as embarrassed as he felt. “Well, yes. Well, I mean you always _have been_. It’s just that I-”

“Hahaha, peace Chrom. I jest. I know that I’m not exactly the definition of a daughter of the court but-”

“ _N-No!_ Trust me you definitely _are_ a lady, it’s just- argh - I mean of course you _know_ that you’re a lady. Forgive me for my blunders just now, and before as well. It’s just that, y’know, you’re… _more_ than just a lady to me...”

“Oh.” The atmosphere around them instantly went from comfortable to agonizingly awkward. Robins eyes dropped to the floor, tracing the movements of her foot as it toed at the dirt. “Um, Chrom I-”

The true implications of his words struck him like a well-aimed Thoron. “AH! I-I didn’t mean it like _that!_ Well, I mean- yeah like that… but, ughhh…. How do I put this? Mind if I start over?” Robin’s head was still bowed toward the floor, face pensive as she gave the slightest of nods.

Chrom took a deep inhale, collecting his thoughts so that they were at least semi-intelligible. He backed up, putting some space between them so Robin could breathe. “Robin, listen to me. You are my greatest friend and Ylisse’s finest mind. You are a warrior of the highest caliber, respected and admired by everyone who has fought by your side. _That_ is what I meant,” he paused, letting her process his words in silence. “It’s true that I-I still feel the way I did when you confronted me before we left for Plegia...But I’m a bit of a dolt so it might be awhile until I can completely move past this…” he chuckled a bit, a shallow noise forced from his throat as an attempt to lessen the tension.

Robin, for her part, made no move or attempt to answer him. Chrom supposed that could be equal parts good and bad. At least she wasn’t running for the high hills. Instead, she stood there, hands fiddling with the trim of her coat as they usually did when she was lost in thought. A small scowl marred her lips, making it appear as though she was trying her best to hide the fact that she’d just swallowed something unpleasant.

A small stab of disappointment pierced his heart, but he shrugged it off and pushed forward. “I would never think of ruining our friendship over something silly like unrequited love. Our bonds mean more to me than that.” Though he spoke the truth, the words tasted like lye-soaked fish on his tongue.

Robin’s hands stopped fidgeting.

“Chrom-”

“So please just pretend-”

“ _Chrom-_ ”

“-that I didn’t say anything-”

“ _CHROM! Just SHUT UP for a moment!”_

His mouth clamped shut, any argument he had dying away as Robin’s eyes screamed bloody murder at him. “May I speak now?”

He nodded.

“Good,” she sighed. “I’ve been giving a lot of thought to your proposal… but I still don’t understand.”

Robin squeezed the bridge of her nose, shouldering her way past Chrom. She stalked to the far side of the tent, and then back again in a repetitive sequence of steps. Chrom counted twelve and a half strides- one being shortened so that she could turn on her heel and begin the process again - from one wall of canvas to another.

She halted her measured pacing to stand at attention in front of him, mimicking the posture of a palace guard. Robin stood, spine ramrod straight, and met his gaze. She didn’t look any less confused than she did just moments before, but there was an air of determination in the set of her shoulders.

“Why? That’s what I can’t figure out. I’ve laid awake at night but I still can’t figure out… why me?” 

“...wha?” Chrom sputtered. It certainly wasn’t one of his most elegant responses, but the dead seriousness of Robin’s inquiry threw him off balance. He’d been ready to accept her complete rejection. He had convinced himself for weeks that there was nothing more than friendship between the two of them. He wasn’t prepared for this. Her unwavering gaze pierced him like fine Feroxi steel.

“Um, well it’s… not the easiest thing to put into words. It’s just how I feel.” A weak argument, he knew. And definitely not one that Robin would be satisfied with. Though, he didn’t know why she was bothering to bringing this up now. She had made it abundantly clear to him that she had no intention of returning his feelings weeks ago. “Is that not reason enough?”

The tactician’s brows drew together in conflicted doubt. “It just doesn’t make sense. Compared to many of the other Shepherds, I’m lacking severely in qualifications as queen of a nation, let alone who I am as a person,” she continued. “I’m not of noble birth. I don’t know the difference between a dinner and a soup spoon. I don’t own a single corset or vial of perfume. I don’t even know if I’m Ylissean…” Her gaze dropped to the trio of ever-staring eyes that adorned her sleeve, where her fingers brushed over the stitch work. “I could be your enemy for all you know…”

Chrom remembered a very similar pattern adorning the cape of one of Plegia’s high sorcerers as he’d driven Falchion between their shoulder blades. “If you were, I’d seriously need to reconsider my method for choosing comrades,” he chuckled half heartedly, hoping to coax another smile out of Robin. It didn’t work.

“I’m being serious, Chrom. I just… I’m a tactician. My job is to figure out how to kill others before they can kill us,” she stated. “The only dance I know is avoiding blades. I don’t own makeup. Dirt is my powder, and dried blood is my rouge. Ylisse doesn’t need a queen whose only skill is war...”

She turned her back to him, but she didn’t make for the exit. She was waiting. He moved so that he stood in front of her again.

“Well if that’s the case, Ylisse is already damned to the cankerworm. It’s not like I’m particularly proficient in anything other than swinging a sword around.”

That answer seemed to do nothing to ease Robin’s anxiety. He released a long sigh, consigning himself to her question. “Uhm, well, like I mentioned earlier, it’s not really the easiest to explain…  I suppose I could try my best at putting it into words if it will help you.”

Robin simply nodded her head, saying nothing.

So be it.

Chrom walked across the room, careful of his injury as he eased himself onto the bed roll. The fur tickled his fingers as he motioned for Robin to sit next to him. She did so without hesitation, her cloak fanning behind her as she made herself comfortable.

“You asked me ‘why’, so I’ll turn the question on you. Why shouldn’t I?” Chrom challenged.

Robin’s eyebrows drew tight as she considered his question. “I already told you, because it makes no sense. Neither you nor Ylisse would gain anything from taking me as your wife.”

Chrom shook his head slowly, letting his bangs fall into his face as he collected his thoughts. “I don’t think anything about love _makes sense_. I need you to stop being a tactician for a moment. This isn’t about advantages and disadvantages. I want to marry you because standing by your side is where I’m happiest. I honestly can’t imagine wanting to be with anyone other than you. It’s as simple as that.”

“...It can’t be that simple. Nothing ever is. You’re our general, the Exalt, and I’m… me. Just some nobody, tactician, amnesiac that picked a good spot to take a nap. Chrom, I just- I can’t… It wouldn’t be right of me.”

White hair fell down around her bowed head like a veil, masking whatever forlorn expression marred her face. Chrom tentatively lifted his finger to her fringe, tucking the offending strands behind her ear. For just a moment’s breath, she leaned in. But as his touch lingered, she hastily pulled away, as though scorched by the contact.

She grabbed his wrist and brought it down to her lap, where she kept it in a stiff hold. “No. I- _We_ can’t do this.”

Chrom pulled his wrist from her grip before catching her hand in his. “Why? Tell me _why_ . All this time, you’ve been dodging around me with words of ‘qualifications’ and ‘gains’ but you still haven’t told me how you hold me in your heart.” He bowed his head so that his brow rested lightly at her temple, his nose brushing against the curve of her cheek. “Please, just _tell me_ . I can accept the fact that you don’t hold the same love for me as I do you, as painful as that may be. I would still happily call you my dearest and most trusted friend… But I’ve asked now and once before, and both times you’ve given me some excuse as to why it would never work… but you’ve never once said that you don’t care for me as a man. Just, _please,_ ” he breathed, speaking softly into her ear. “If you don’t love me, just tell me.”

He drew away just far enough so that he could study her reaction. His eyes searched hers, desperate to find some sort of answer in the deep pools of brown and gold.

For her part, she made every effort to meet his gaze. If he hadn’t known her better, perhaps he would have thought she was glaring. But he caught the subtle way her gaze hopped from point to point, reading his features like one of her maps.

Her mouth opened as if to answer, but clamped shut when a particularly inebriated pair of guards made their way past the tent. Clumsy footsteps and equally clumsy timing shattered what intimacy the two had built up around themselves like a stone thrown at a glass window. Robin dropped her gaze again, a resigned tiredness settling in the lines of her face.

“I can’t.” It came out as barely a whisper, but it had an edge of finality to it that was surprisingly steady.

“Why not?”

“Because I’d be lying.”

With those four words, the world fell away from him. The noise died down to a hum, the only sound being the pounding of his own heart in his ears. “...Really?”

Robins eyes flicked up to meet his, filled with guarded hope. “...Yeah, really. Honestly… I’ve known for awhile now. It’s just that I-” She wasn’t given the chance to finish speaking as strong arms enveloped her in a tight embrace. Chrom buried his face into the plum fabric of her hood, near the crook of her neck. “H-Hey! What are you-?”

“Gods, I love you.” The words spilled from his mouth, eager to be said after so many weeks of being bitten back. He’d never have to hold his tongue again.

Robin struggled to right herself in Chrom’s overly enthusiastic grip, pushing lightly at his arms in a plea for breathing room. “Chrom-wait! Just because we feel the same way doesn’t mean that this is okay for us to do! It’s not just about you or me. You are the _Exalt_. You need to be smart about this!”

Chrom pulled his head back, his eyes burning with a steady set resolve. “Marrying you would be the smartest choice of my life. What will it take to make you believe that?”

Robin shook her head in denial. “That’s not the _issue._ If you were any other person, then perhaps we could… but no one would approve of m-” She didn’t get to finish that thought as Chrom gathered her up in his arms, hefting her full weight against his chest as he stood up. “Chrom?! Hey! What do you think you’re doing?! Your injury!”

Chrom made no attempt to answer her, his eyes trained ahead of him as he started for the front of the tent. He shouldered his way through the opening, cool air greeting his face as the night rushed over them.

“ _Chrom!_ Where are you-?!”

“I’m proving you wrong.” Chrom strode towards the center of the makeshift desert camp with measured determination, the loose sand beneath his feet doing nothing to slow his progress. There were still a sizable amount of Shepherds awake, huddled around the remnants of once-strong bonfire.

Robin’s eyes widened as she realized what Chrom was about to do. “No, Chro-wait! This really _isn’t_ necessary!”

He paid her no mind as he sauntered into the clearing, still cradling Robin in his arms. Spotting a crate filled with oranges, he decided that it would make a fine enough podium.

“Chrom, please. I-I understand your point but you don’t have to-” she stuttered. In that moment, Chrom shot her a wide smile, eyes shining with mischief.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that now.” Before Robin could raise another objection, he stepped onto the box and spoke.

“ATTENTION, SHEPHERDS!”

Two dozen pairs of eyes turned toward the both of them, each more curious than the last. The comfortable chatter of the soldiers, that had been evident just before, came to a complete halt at the sight of their captain standing with their tactician nestled in his grip. Robin slouched even further into her cloak in an attempt to hide herself from both the night’s chill and questioning stares.

“I stand before you tonight because your tactician and I seem to have gotten into a bit of a disagreement, and seeing as how Robin is concerned how the decision will affect you guys, I decided it would be best if we just asked you directly!”

Shepherds shared looks of confusion and amusement alike as they gradually made their way to stand in front of the orange box at their captain’s call. Frederick pushed his way to the front line,  Lissa trailing behind him with a plateful of stew. “Milord, if I may, what is it that you think you’re doing?”

Chrom beamed, a stark contrast to Robin’s evident mortification. “I’m asking everyone if they would have any objections to Robin helping me run Ylisse.”

There was a low murmur of confused chatter. Lissa stepped forward, eyebrows cocked with mild bemusement. “Um, I’m confused. Doesn’t she already-?”

“As my wife.”

The reaction was immediate. Anyone within earshot of Chrom’s declaration froze, their hushed chatter giving way to stunned silence. Robin turned her face into his chest, trying desperately to hide the way her face reddened at his proclamation. 

The Exalt studied the faces of each man, seemingly satisfied with himself. “No objections, then?”

Frederick looked as though he was about to respond, but Sully denied him the chance.

“HELL YAH!” She whipped around to Gaius, giving him a high five before turning to Vakie with her hand outstretched and palm up. “Cough up that 20 gold.”

“And don’t forget that taffy you promised me too,” the thief chimed in, lollipop dangling lazily from his lips.

Vaike muttered curses under his breath, scrapping up pocket change and a few pieces of wax-wrapped candy before shoving them into Sully’s waiting hands.

The rest of the crowd seemed to simultaneously regain their senses as the silence gave way to a frenzied uproar. Cheers were raised with glasses filled to the brim with honey-colored mead, and Lissa ran off squealing something about how she needed to tell Maribelle.

The Shepherds were quick to offer congratulations, as well as crack open the nearest keg of ale. Chrom, content with the overall reaction from the camp, unceremoniously stepped down from the crate and started back towards the tents.

He’d somehow managed to dodge some of the more inquisitive soldiers, and took advantage of the newly formed chaos to take his leave.

The fire light receded as he ducked between rows of canvas, encasing the two of them in shadowed quietude. Here, where the heat from the cooking hearths couldn’t reach, the air was significantly cooler. Robin stirred. “...I hate you, you know that?”

“No you don’t,” he replied, a chuckle in the back of his throat warming his words.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Can you put me down?”

“I don’t think I want to.”

Chrom sidestepped a stray bundle of rope, careful not to get his foot tangled in the process. The firelight from the center of camp was all but gone now, leaving them swathed in darkness. He’d have to take care for where he walked. 

“You’re going the wrong way. You needed to turn left there to get to the medical bay.”

Chrom snorted. “Don’t talk to me about going the wrong way. I wasn’t the one who mistook the men’s bathing tent for an armory. I’m taking you back to your tent.”

“What? No. You need to go back and rest Chrom. Plus, I can find my way back without your help.”

The man in question rolled his eyes. “I don’t think that’d be possible. I’d bet anything that Lissa is lying there in wait at this very moment. If I went back there now, I’d be held for questioning until morning. Just let me take you back.”

Robin huffed in protest, looking as though she still had more she wanted to say, but she held her tongue. Instead, she settled on glaring at him.

Not long after, Chrom found himself standing before the tactician’s tent, as he had so many times before. Granted, Robin had always been on the other side of the canvas rather than cradled in his arms.

Inside, it was dark and smelled of dust and leather. Books and maps littered every available flat surface that wasn’t the floor. Chrom set Robin down lightly, his side reminding him of his earlier blunder with a stab of pain below his ribs.

The Exalt stumbled around in the dark, searching for a candle that wasn’t already burned down to its wick. Behind him, he could hear Robin clearing up some of the books that crowded the table and chairs. He pulled a small wooden crate from the top of her bookshelf, sand falling into his eyes as he did. Long sticks of white candle wax lay stacked in rows, their pungent scent filling his nose. He grabbed a few off the top before restoring the box to its previous location.

“Hey Robin, is there a tinder box over there? I don’t see any-”

_THWACK._

Chrom’s hands immediately flew up to the back of his head, letting the candlesticks clatter to the ground alongside a leather bound book. The spot under his fingers stung slightly at his prodding.

“You know, you have startlingly good aim for you to be able to land a shot like that in such a heavy darkness,” he jested. As he turned, another novel flew past his face, sending his hair flying.

“I’ve told you before not to underestimate me, especially when I’m mad.” The tone she used was surprisingly cocky, though he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. If he squinted, he could see that Robin had armed herself with another book from a sizeable stack that rested near her foot.

Chrom held his hands up, palms out in a gesture of surrender, as he knelt to collect the discarded candles. “I definitely deserved the first one, but I hardly think I did anything so horrendous as to warrant a second strike,” he offered, still smiling despite himself.

A moment passed before he heard the crunch of sand underfoot. Robin walked over to him, releasing a long sigh through her nose before tapping the crown of his head with the book’s spine. “That’s where you’d be wrong. However, I’ll forgive your stupidity just this once so that I don’t need to strain my eyes trying to aim again.”

She knelt down beside him, gathering up two candles and her leather bound ammunition. It didn’t take long for her to find a piece of fire-steel and get a flame going. She lit the wicks with a practiced ease, a testament to how often she worked by candlelight.

The orange glow of the fire danced across her hair, somehow softening the tired lines beneath her eyes. Gods, she was beautiful.

Her gaze remained down cast, her fingers tracing the lines of a tattered map of Plegia. “It’s hard to believe that the war is over. I still keep thinking that this is all just some dream that I’ll be violently pulled from, woken by the call of the war horn at dawn. This is just too… ideal.” Her eyes drew up to meet his, shining with unspoken fears. “This… I can’t be allowed to hope that this is all real, can I?”

The slight crack in her voice forced the breath from his lungs, his chest constricting in painful agony. He felt his heart shatter.

He was at her side in an instant, pulling her into his arms in a solid embrace. She held to him as though he were her anchor, keeping her from drifting away in the desert wind. “No...No, of course you can. Gods, Robin. _Of course you can._ ”

“I need to hear you promise me, Chrom. If this, _we_ , will ever work I need to be sure that it won’t fall apart.” Shadows danced across her face to an unsung tune, her pupils changing from almost black to honeyed gold in the flickering firelight.

Chrom pressed his forehead against hers, pulling her even further into his chest. He was close to her, closer than he’s ever been before. Here, where practically no space existed between the two, he could feel all of her. The warm tickle of her breath on his lips, the frantic beating of her heart behind her ribs, the heat rising off her skin. The pull of her was almost painful.

“I promise you. As long as you wish it so, I will stand by your side. I swear it upon the brand at my shoulder and the sword on my hip. ” The words tumbled from his mouth more clumsily than he would have liked, too rushed from overpractice.

A small puff of breath rustled the midnight blue stands that fell over his brow. Robin stifled a small giggle, her cheeks an affectionate red. “Chrom, it’s okay. Just relax,” she breathed.

Chrom huffed in her face like an indignant stallion. His lip jutted out in an over exaggerated pout. “Easy enough for you to say, I’ve already had to go through this once before.”

Another hushed laugh. “Try again.”

Chrom sucked in a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs with air. “Okay.” He reached for her hands, taking them within his own. The steady pressure and heat of her grip kept his mind clear, even though the rest of his body seemed to be alight with nervous energy. “I love you, Robin. More than anyone has loved anything. You are the breath in my lungs and the blood in my veins. If it suits you, I’d be honored to be called yours.”

Robin giggled, the sound ringing high and sweet in his ear. “More than anyone has loved anything? You’re sure about that? That’s an awful lot that you’re promising…”

Chrom smiled and nodded his head resolutely. “Absolutely. Even more than Gaius loves his sweets.”

Robin tilted her head, her eyes twinkling through her lashes. “Oh? Now I know you’re lying to me.”

The Exalt barked a laugh. “I’m seriou-”

“Libra once told me that he promised Naga his first born son if She made it rain donuts from the sky.” Robin’s eyebrow was cocked in brazen challenge.

Chrom was at a loss. “Really?”

She nodded once, a sage smile spreading across her face. “Really.”

He balked. “Gods, we should warn Maribelle…”

Silence.

A moment passed before Chrom cracked. Laughter came spilling from his lips, too unbridled with amusement to be controlled. “G-Gods. I can’t believe- How, how could he even?- And in front of _Libra_ of all people!” He wheezed, desperately fighting for breath between words.

The sight of Chrom’s unrestrained joy sent Robin into a fit of giggles. “Oh like _you’re_ any better! Didn’t _you_ once have to pants Frederick after losing to Vaike in a duel? No man with half a brain would have agreed to that!”

“H-Hey!!! That one wasn’t my fault! Vaike forced me into that bet,” he argued.

“And the time Gaius caught you eating an orange with-” she continued.

“W-Well yes, I suppose that wasn’t my most _elegant_ moment...BUT-!”

“And lest I remind you again of the bathing tent incident…?” She asked coyly.

“...okay, okay. I see your point. As per usual, the lady tactician is right. I am in no place to criticize the actions of others,” Chrom sighed, defeated.

Robin smiled triumphantly, jabbing him square in the chest. “Knowing you, you’d trade away our kids by accident, even! Probably after losing a-” She paused. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Chrom was staring at her with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“...you said ‘our’.”

Robin tilted her head, white hair falling in front of her eyes as she did. “Hm? What are you tal-” Almost immediately after the words left her mouth, realization struck. A violent red blush painted her cheeks, spreading all the way up to her ears. “W-Well what of it?! Th-That would be normal to assume right? Because… you, we...”

Robin fidgeted in his arms, absolutely refusing to meet his eyes. The sight warmed Chrom’s heart. He pulled her close, ducking his head so that it rested beside hers. “May I take that as a ‘yes’?”

Robin leaned into him, taking in his warmth. “Pfft. Nice of you to care about my answer _after_ dragging me out and proposing in front of the entire camp.”

“Hey, you left me no choice. You were so insistent on sticking to some vague notion of ‘duty’ that I was forced to take drastic measures.”

The tactician scrunched her nose adorably. “You’d think a man of your station ought to be a bit more concerned about said ‘vague notion of duty’.”

Chrom only shrugged. “Emm always hoped that Lissa and I might find love freely of our titles . She had always told us to follow our hearts. So that’s what I did,” he explained. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Gods, you really _do_ have no tact,” she huffed, her feigned frustration betrayed by the upturned corners of her lips. “...Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes, for each of the times I told myself no.”

Chrom couldn’t contain the joy that flooded his system. Finally, _finally._ He’d waited so long for this day. “HAHAHA! This is _GREAT!_ Gods, you don’t even _know-!_ ” He pulled away so that he could look Robin square in the face. She was red from ear to ear, but she couldn’t have looked prettier in that moment.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized he said them.

Robin’s eyes shot up to his, wide as dinner plates. “Huh!? Now?”

“Well, I guess? Is that not okay?” He asked, concerned. “It’s fine if you don’t want to! It’s just that you're beautiful, and I thought-”

“Well I mean, it’s not like it’s a _bad_ thing… It’s just- just, I dunno! Embarrassing?” Robin stuttered, the flush on her face spreading down to her neck.

“So you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that, exactly…”

“So you _do_ want to?” Chrom questioned, hopeful.

“I-I don’t know! Stop asking!”

Robin struggled in his arms, pushing lightly at his chest in a halfhearted attempt at escape. Chrom couldn’t stop himself from laughing. She was too cute. He brought his hand up to cup the side of her face, drawing her focus back to him.

Any words of protest she had died when her eyes met his own. Chrom wondered what he might have looked like to her, because she seemed to reach some sort of conclusion as her gaze searched out his.

Her hands snaked up around his neck, the movement measured and cautious, as though he’d be spooked. He would have laughed were it not for his heart pounding in his ear.

“...Chrom?” His name.

Her fingers brushed over his racing pulse before threading themselves between the strands of midnight blue at his neck. She was closer now, warm whispers of a breath caressing his face.

“...Yes?”

Somehow, his free hand found its way to the curve of her hip, still prominent even under the bulk of her cloak. She didn’t pull away. She leaned closer.

“ _You don’t have to ask.”_

_Oh._

He wasn’t sure who moved first, breaking the scant few centimeters of space between them. His lips fell over hers, awkward and hesitant at first. Robin, in comparison, seemed much more at ease.

She leaned into him as he pulled her face closer. Her lips encouraged him, despite all his blunders, to continue. She tasted faintly of honeyed tea and beef stew, the remnants of dinner perhaps. He found that he didn’t really care.

They drew impossibly close, attempting to eliminate any offending space between them. Those careful, awkward, kisses quickly dissolved into something more instinctual.

Testing the waters, Chrom dragged his tongue along Robin’s bottom lip, asking for something he himself didn’t know. He thought she’d pull away, scared off by his advance, but in true fashion to herself, she proved him wrong. She opened to him willingly, eagerly accepting his request for more.

Hooking her legs around his hips, he hoisted her up into his arms. His side ached at the sudden strain, but Robin’s lips were demanding more attention than he cared to give to his injury. Moving his arms so that they better supported her weight, he walked over to the war table and collapsed into the nearest chair.

Robin didn’t seem to give mind to the shift in positions, or if she did, it did little to distract her. Her hands dropped from the nape of his neck to his shoulders, gliding over the ridges of muscles under his tunic, before settling on his heaving chest.

His hands wandered, too. They dragged across her back, up and down her covered arms. The cloak was quickly becoming a nuisance, but he’d quickly decided that could be taken care of on another night. He was positive that he nor Robin weren’t quite prepared for that yet. Instead, he opted for unraveling the ponytail at the back of her head.

Long white hair cascaded down in small, silky waves, tickling at his face. He carted his fingers through one of her braids, enjoying the way the plaits came apart at his insistence. Robin grunted slightly when he got caught on a tangle, grabbing at his own hair in teasing protest. Though he was just as eager to resume, his tugging only seemed to aggravate the knot further.

Robin pulled away, stifling a laugh. “Having trouble there?”

Chuckling at his own shortcomings,Chrom took advantage of the extra space to work out the rest of the knots. “Sorry, sorry,” he breathed, still winded. “I was doing my best to be careful.” He admired how the white strands slipped from his hands and continued combing his finger through her hair, even after all the tangles had been removed.

Robin rested her head against his chest, smiling contently at his ministrations. He had no doubt that she could hear his heartbeat through the thin woven material of his shirt.

“...Thank you, Chrom.” The words came out barely above a whisper, light as candle smoke.

“What for?” He dragged his finger down her neck, stopping to trace absent-minded patterns at the spot between her shoulders.

“Everything.”

For some reason, that made him laugh. He was the one who should be thanking her. “I don’t think I did anything special.”

Robin hummed, nuzzling into the spot just below his jaw. “Hmm, that’s what makes me the smart one.” He could feel the small smirk against his skin.

He quickly pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear, enjoying how Robin giggled as he did. She settled herself against him once more, this time releasing a drawn out yawn.

“...Hey, Chrom?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

_Ah._

“I love you too.”

 

 

Chrom didn’t track how many hours passed with Robin in his arms. They talked of little things- dreams, secrets- until the tactician could no longer keep her eyelids from falling shut. Even then, Chrom held her long past her breathing had evened out to the deep sighs of sleep. The candles were all but stubs now, barely standing amidst the pools of wax at their base. Very carefully so as not to wake her, he lifted Robin into his arms. The injury in his side stung in protest, but it did little otherwise to throw off the warmth that had settled in his chest. 

He stepped lightly to her bedside, toeing away her blankets with his foot so that he could set her down. Though he was… less than graceful about it, the woman hardly stirred, only moving to curl into a heavy, fleece quilt.

That was very typical of Robin. The first day he’d found her, she’d been sleeping so deeply that even his and Lissa’s bickering didn’t wake her immediately. He didn’t know, then, that meeting her in the middle of that field would lead to this.

The thought put a smile on his face.

“Maybe I was wrong. There couldn’t have been a better place for you to take a nap, after all.”

 

* * *

 

 

A/N: HEY GUYS IM BACK!!!! Sorry I haven't been posting much (or anything at all really). This semester has been kicking my butt. I promise that Foxglove and Meadowsweet will get another chapter (eventually)!!!!!

So anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot I wrote! It's my first time doing one of these and I really enjoyed it! Hopefully I can dish out a few more in the months to come!

Thank you to all those beta readers who helped me through writing this!!! You guys are awesome!!!!

And as always, thank you to you guys for taking the time to read my work! Please let me know what you thought, or just say hi if you want! I love hearing from you!!!


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